


Keeping Secrets

by kawaiite



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Universe, Confessions, Light Angst, M/M, Reconciliation, Step-brothers Because It’s Canon, The Hauntings Are Over, no one dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 06:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiite/pseuds/kawaiite
Summary: this is a surprise present for my best friend. so, surprise!





	Keeping Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> this is a surprise present for my best friend. so, surprise!

If Sal was counting, it would’ve been seven and a half months since he and Larry last saw each other in person. A hypothetical scenario. Well, not completely. It really had been that long since Sal was able to reach out and sock his friend’s shoulder after a stupid joke, knock their heads back and forth with devil horns upon their fingers - it was just that he wasn’t counting. It’s not like he craved his friend’s company at ungodly hours, or fell silent once he realized he no longer could imagine that gravelly, deep voice; anticipation was lost between still fingertips and tiny numerical buttons. 

But October was their favourite month, and it was all a lie. Sal was counting. Sal was anticipating. That’s when he got the text message that sent him spiralling into feelings he didn’t know existed.

Something that turned into a force of habit when he grew anxious was cleaning: sweeping, scrubbing the dishes in the sink, putting his freshly cleaned clothes in their drawers. It was to distract himself - to lift heavy thoughts from his racing mind. Not like Todd or Neil minded, but it drew their attention. He typically kept to himself, it was odd to see him so proactive.

Todd, with his floppy bangs pinned back, called for Sal, slamming his pencil down upon the dining table. 

“He’s cleaning,” Neil replied from upstairs. 

“Yeah, but I want to know why.” 

“Are you calling him lazy?”

Todd rolled his eyes, tapping his fingers against the wood underneath. No answer from Sal. As busy a bee he was all this morning, no sign of him now was suspicious. He called for him again, and still met with silence. A sigh slipping from his lips, he pushed his chair back and slid his pencil in between the open pages of his textbook. He closed it with a muffled slam and rounded the table.

The sudden telltale sound of glass shattering arose from Sal’s room. Todd rushed to his door and swung it open, cringing at the sight of Sal’s sliced palm and fragments of glass residing in a pool of saline on the floor. 

Neil’s frantic footsteps grew louder as he rushed downstairs to meet the two. 

“What happened? What happened? I heard something break.” He demanded.

Sal hung his head, silent, his prosthetic concealed by a curtain of vibrant hair. Crimson dribbled down his wrist, soaking into his sleeve, leaving droplets scattered at his feet. At once, Todd and Neil mentally thanked themselves for not being squeamish. 

“Dear God, Sal… Here, wait a minute. Don’t move.” Neil hurried upstairs, clambered around, and nearly tripped on his own feet as he barged into Sal’s room with a fistful of medical gauze. Todd leant against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching, a tad amused. When his boyfriend was around, Todd felt at ease as if there were nothing to truly worry about. He was studying to become a doctor, liked to flaunt when he could, and this was his opportunity to shine. Neil gently held Sal’s fingers, inspecting the wound on his palm. He mumbled something along the lines of “there’s too much,” and instructed Sal to follow him to the washroom. All three trailed along and Todd shook his head, analyzing what he could see of Sal’s shadowed eyes in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Alright, Sal, something’s up.” Todd stated point-blank, catching Neil’s attention for a moment. He quickly returned to disinfecting the other’s hand, wrapping it in a thick layer of bandage. 

“Love, I don’t think right now’s the time to go all supersleuth on him.” 

“Well, Sal?” Todd questioned. “Your input on that?” 

Sal immediately rose his head, entire body shivering like he’d just broken out of a trance. He absentmindedly watched Todd behind him in the reflection, eyes wide yet blank, until flinching at the immense burning in his hand. Sal reeled back a little at the sensation, feeling cool air absorbing into his open skin. Neil took hold of his wrist, glancing up and lifting the corners of his lips into a small smile. 

“Wait, what happened?” Sal asked, his throat dry and raw. He began inspecting his gash as intently as he could, craning his neck. He jumped again as Neil wound the gauze tightly around his hand. 

“You’re finally awake? I was beginning to think something was actually wrong.” Todd teased, eliciting a tiny snort from his boyfriend. Sal slumped. After a moment, he laughed a little, himself. 

“I think I was just cleaning and got sucked in to one of… my weird episodes or something.”

Neil fastened the end of the bandage into the other layers and turned his wrapped palm this way and that. With the gauze now completely immovable, he released Sal’s hand and watched it hang back by his side.

“You be more careful now, Sal. Continue on with your paranormal talk, boys, I have coffee to attend to upstairs.” He offered Sal another smile, and just before leaving, gave Todd a chaste kiss. Beneath his prosthetic, Sal smiled. 

“I love my dads.” He quipped softly, following Neil out, Todd last. 

“Don’t ever say that again.” Despite his statement, Todd laughed, beckoning Sal to the kitchen table as Neil disappeared up the stairs.

Sal pulled a chair out across from the other’s scattered papers and books. Before Todd even sat himself, Sal could feel the intimidating aura of “the look” boring into him. It was a look any kid could associate with their parents saying, “I’m not mad, just disappointed,” and it gave Sal a shiver.

“I’m sorry, Todd. I should… probably go clean the glass up.”

“You’re not going anywhere, young man.” He stated firmly, securing Sal’s place in his seat. Todd pulled out his chair and sorted his paperwork to the side. 

“Ugh,” Sal grunted, “you sound like an old man more and more everyday.” 

“Do not.” 

“Do.” 

“Do  _ not. _ ” 

“... Do.” 

Todd dismissed it with a click of his tongue, giving a shake of his head. He slowly relaxed in his chair, eyeing Sal’s mask. It was time to talk. Something of which Sal didn’t particularly want to do at that moment, and instead allow his suppressed busybody instincts take over. But it was Todd. Sal knew he wouldn’t get away without an explanation. 

“So…” Todd drawled. Sal shifted his eye to the side, awkwardly attempting to avoid contact. As much as he hated it, Todd was extremely observant and usually knew what was wrong before anything had even been said. It always had been a little unnerving, and Sal silently prayed for him to miraculously drop it. 

“So, what?” 

“When were you going to tell me?” 

“Tell you what?” Sal inquired hesitantly, returning his gaze to Todd. The ginger chuckled under his breath and folded his arms against his chest, cocking a brow. 

“When were you going to tell me that Larry’s coming to visit?” 

Although hoping for a subject change, it occurred to Sal that sometimes Todd was an asshole. An endearing term, and Todd himself would likely agree, because he’s way too smart for his own good and sometimes liked to play stupid when it came to the friend group. Sal supposed it was simply his form of humour, then came to the consensus that it simply  _ sucked _

Sal’s pulse jumped, a sudden sting of pain radiating from his hand causing a grimace on his face. He opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was an exasperated breath, and at that point, he knew the charade was over. Todd was far too intelligent (not to mention nosy) to overlook his suspicious actions. It was an extremely rare occurrence for Sal to act out since he had moved away from Addison Apartments, unless it concerned paranormal activity or, well, Larry. 

Unfortunately, that time, it was regarding the latter. In replacement for words, a sigh fell from Sal’s lips. It was October 6th. For a week he hadn’t spoken to Larry even once, and it was beginning to affect him. Again, unfortunately, negatively. Yet that day, some otherworldly prick decided, out of the blue, that would change? Just at the snap of their fingers or a drop of a dime? How unfair. 

Todd sucked the thoughts from Sal’s mind, casually gesturing his hand. 

“You think you’re slick sometimes Sal, but you’re actually super transparent.” He said. “You’ve been acting strange for a few days now. I noticed. Especially today.”

“Well, I…” Sal started, softly running his opposite thumb over the many layers of protective gauze. “I’ve just been nervous about him coming over. He hasn’t seen us in, like, almost a year.”

“Are you worried he’s changed?” 

“No.” He said, shaking his head. “I’m more nervous that… something might be wrong.” 

“How so?” Todd shifted in his seat, furrowing his eyebrows together. 

“Well, y’know, we didn’t talk for a week, and then he suddenly texted me last night saying he wanted a sleepover like old times. Seriously, like, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? What am I supposed to make of that?” 

“Perhaps you’re overthinking it? You tend to do that when it comes to him, anyway.” 

Sal felt an embarrassed flush flame his cheeks that sank down into his neck and bloomed at the tips of his ears. He glanced away, unconsciously reaching up to his hair, bringing a small section into his unharmed palm. 

“Yeah? How so?” Sal asked, mocking Todd’s tone. 

“Well,” he said, unfazed, “when has it ever been more than just a ‘hangout session’ between you and him? As far as I know, you are both virgins, and I doubt that whatever is floating around in your head right now is what Larry is thinking.”

“Jesus, Todd!” Sal exclaimed, taking a fistful of his hair. “Who said anything about that?!” 

A few soft beeps arose from Sal’s pocket, jamming a wedge into the conversation. He slowly released his hair, extending his leg to grab his phone. What a coincidence: a text from Larry. Todd grinned. 

“What did he say?” Todd teased, eliciting a glare from Sal. 

“Nothing.” He replied hoarsely. “Just said he’d be here in a few hours.” 

The ginger wiped the smile from his face and stood from his chair as Sal tried to manage a response. He grabbed his assortment of paperwork and textbooks, lumping them together in his arms. A soft clearing of his throat, and Sal glanced up. 

“If I may remind you Sal, you two are best friends. If he’s to say something to you tonight, make sure neither of you get hurt. That would be quite misfortunate.” 

“Say something?” He asked. Todd turned on his heel and made his way upstairs with a wave of his hand. 

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just reminding you to be careful. Shouldn’t you keep cleaning to ensure he’ll be impressed with the place?” He dismissed, leaving Sal with a pounding heart and tension ridden fingers. Fingers of which had already sent an immediate reply to his friend. Phone dropped, sandwiched between his thighs, Sal took a slow, deep breath, held it, then blew it out his nose. 

It’s Larry. 

Someone he’s known for years, his best friend. He was there, glued to Sal’s side after his nightmares, when Travis threatened him with violence, even before and after school. It could’ve been thrift shopping. It could’ve been painting, having a hard enough rock session that both were scared of a concussion - it could’ve been anything. Larry was always there. 

It’s  _ Larry.  _

He was there to assure Sal he’d be okay after receiving a prosthetic to the nose. He was there to tag along in their haunting adventures inside the apartment. He was  _ there _ to give him a fist bump when their parents married, telling him their bro-ship wouldn’t change regardless. 

They’re step-brothers. So, why then, did Sal feel his heart pounce out of his mouth in excitement when Larry replied to his text, saying, “ _ haha can’t wait _ ”? 

Sal took up his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. He tucked the chair back in and fetched the broom and pan from the kitchen closet, the only thing on his mind to clean. It kept his hands busy. It kept his thoughts at bay, and that was he needed most. 

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Larry always knocked with his entire hand instead of just his knuckles. He said that the sound resounded louder inside if he did it hard enough, and when Sal questioned it, Larry pushed him on the opposite side of a door and demonstrated. 

It was something Sal adopted as well, and when the knock resounded just as loudly as he knew it did, he realized it was finally time to face him. After half a year, barely even able to recall his best friend’s features anymore, let alone his voice, it was an overdue visit to say the least.

Sal decided not to impress. Regular clothes, regular hair - the one thing he recognized Larry might have to get used to. However, when Larry finally stood before him, it was like the “regular” stuff didn’t matter. They were people. They were allowed to change. 

Larry sported a thick leather jacket and one of his various Sanity’s Fall shirts he’d bought at their concerts. Classic ripped jeans and sneakers, both of which Sal could take a breath of relief upon seeing - something familiar. It was a warm hug that accompanied Larry’s own, his body taut against Sal’s chest.

Then like a broken dam, it all flooded back to him. 

His smell, like Irish Spring and cheap cologne he’d worn since high school. The sensation of his grown hair tickling the edges of Sal’s bare jaw and ears - how fucking  _ good  _ it felt. Their embrace felt, in an odd way, like the embodiment of their first meeting, except… more emotion. Larry held Sal tight, his jacket straining against his biceps. They both stayed silent, no greeting or “wow, you look good”s prior. They missed each other. It showed. 

Sal was an expert at the awkward let-me-rub-your-back-so-you-know-the-hug’s-over thing, and Larry flinched from it, immediately breaking them apart. 

“I’m so sorry, dude.” He chuckled awkwardly. Was it just Sal, or did Larry’s voice get deeper? “I forgot you’re picky with your hugs.” 

“It’s okay,” Sal assured. “I think we both… kinda needed that.”

Larry cast his gaze aside, lips falling into a frown. He rubbed the back of his head, once again bringing Sal’s attention to the strain of his muscles against his jacket. When did he get so ripped? 

“Yeah… um, so, it’s alright if I come in?” 

Sal stuttered, embarrassed at himself for forgetting, and ushered his friend in. 

Since it wasn’t Larry’s first time to the new house, the first and second being friend-family dinners and post-food joints, Sal didn’t feel inclined to show him around. He knew the general layout, knew where the washrooms were, and knew were the backyard was if he felt he wanted to smoke. Yet for some reason, Larry still marveled at the place. He walked with a smile to the kitchen and down the hall, calling upstairs to Todd and Neil.

Sal trailed after Larry, joining him in raising a hand to the two peeking out from behind the upstairs wall. 

It was like Larry was a kid in a candy shop. He grinned at the photos scattered amongst the walls, genuinely relishing in the sights before him. When Gizmo lazily wandered to the kitchen for his food, Larry made a beeline towards him, scooping him up in his arms and placing a kiss on his forehead.

It really had been a long time. 

Larry suggested Sal’s room, pulling out three burnt CD’s from his back pocket with chicken scratch sprawled across them. He said his mom suggested some scary movies that neither he nor Sal had seen, and had to judge if they were good enough. Even without the DVD’s, that’s where they both would’ve ended up eventually. The movies just seemed like the perfect excuse to lock themselves in a room together for the night. Though Sal didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all.

However, as it  _ never _ was between them as far as Sal could remember, things felt awkward as soon as they were alone. Almost unreal. It didn’t feel like Larry was actually there with him, stripping his jacket and leaving it on Sal’s bedpost. Choppy conversation bartered between them. It didn’t feel normal. A strange heaviness loomed in the air, suffocating them.

Sal perched himself on his bed, tossing the pillows around to make more room, or so he tried to convince himself. It was just to keep his hands busy, to distract himself from the growing tightness in his chest. Larry cleared his throat, setting the CD’s down on the bedside table beside a new glass of saline. 

It laid a heavy burden on both of their shoulders, the intimidation from contact eating at their minds.  _ We should’ve tried harder, we should’ve tried harder, _ they thought. Larry licked his lips, his movements slow. Sal could tell he was stalling. Stalling for what, he didn’t know, but he tucked his knees into his chest and braced himself for what would come next. 

Which was nothing. 

Larry stayed still, facing away from Sal until Sal began to believe he’d become a statue. His hands grew clammy. He had to speak up, he couldn’t handle the tension anymore. 

“I’m sorry-” 

“I’m sorry-” 

Both jumped. 

“Oh.” Sal said quietly. Larry finally turned towards him, a gentle, apologetic smile turning the corners of his lips up. 

“Why are  _ you _ saying sorry?” Larry asked. 

“Well…” Sal murmured. “I don’t know.” 

Taking a brief pause, Larry sighed. He brushed his long, dangling hair behind his ears and took a seat on Sal’s bed. The physical distance, Sal noticed, was something they never had. Something he never noticed until now. 

“Do you remember high school?” Larry asked. He hunched into himself a little, lacing his fingers together with his knees supporting his forearms. A soft laugh masquerading as an exhale escaped Sal’s nose. 

“You make it sound like we’re old men.” 

“Hey, now,” he chuckled, “we’re still a long way from that. I’m just saying, man, remember how good those days were? Remember how much time we used to spend together?” 

It struck a cord deep within Sal’s core, hearing the words: “time we  _ used _ to spend together.” It hurt. He couldn’t hide it, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. The fact that it had already been  _ months  _ since they last saw each other was a hard enough pill to swallow. It never truly occurred to Sal until that moment, that within those few months, there definitely was the possibility of Larry avoiding him. He sighed, lightly brushing his fingers from his unharmed palm through his hair.

“Yeah.” Sal replied. “I really… well, I just… I guess I just - miss it sometimes, y’know?” 

“Fuck, dude, I know. I do, too.” Larry said, a bite to his tone. “A lot more than you think.” 

“What do you mean?” Sal pressed. The other formed a grimace on his face, scrunching his nose into his forehead. He sighed heavily, clenching his hands together so tight that Sal could see his knuckles turning white. 

Larry lightly bounced his leg causing anxiety to rage throughout Sal’s body. Silence flooded the room as Larry fought with his inner thoughts until he finally dropped his head with another frustrated sigh. 

“You- I…” He started, sighing again. “I just wish I would’ve… put more care… into our relationship.” 

“In… in high school?” 

“No. Just recently.” 

“Oh.” 

Sal fell quiet again, absently holding a section of his hair with his ring and pinky, gathering small pieces into his hand.

“Larry, it’s - it’s not just your fault.” 

“It is.” Larry said firmly. “I should’ve texted you more, I should’ve tried to call you more - for fuck’s sake, I don’t even know if you’ve had any nightmares in the past few months!” 

Sal flinched at the raised tone of his voice, jumping once more as both boys were startled from some sudden movement upstairs. Larry raised his head, leaning it back, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Out of surprise, Sal released the hair he’d been gathering. 

To be fair, Larry was absolutely right. There had been a total lack of communication since, well, his last visit really, and ever since then things had changed. Sal changed: only experiencing nightmares a handful of times in a month. Larry changed: his attitude, seemingly, although Sal couldn’t quite tell if it was just out of frustration or not. His best friend was so close, yet so far away - so far away that it pained him to imagine that the drift between the two was real, not fake. 

“I’m equally to blame.” 

Larry rolled his eyes to the side, furrowing his brows at Sal. 

“No, Sal, you’re not. I’m the one who -”

“Communication is between two people. As much as you should’ve kept contact, I should’ve, too.” He said, his own frustrations bubbling. “Remember the walkie-talkies? We’d talk to each other all night until it was time to get up for school. We’d spend everyday together. You were my best friend - you still  _ are  _ my best friend. Don’t go taking all the blame for something that isn’t completely your fault, because I - God damn it, I fucking… I just fucking miss you, Larry.” 

Larry’s eyes softened. He slowly unlaced his fingers and turned towards Sal who caved in on himself, head jammed between his knees. Larry shuffled over, unsure of what the right thing to do at that moment was. His body lead him to encase Sal in a gentle embrace, pulling his body against his own. Sal eventually relaxed a little against Larry’s hold, allowing his body to move from his contortion. He wrapped his arms around Larry’s neck, Larry’s hold firm around his waist. 

“I missed you too, Sally Face. I’m sorry.” 

Sal buried his face into the sea of his friend’s hair, slowly practicing his Mississippi’s to calm himself down. They stayed close together, glued almost, Larry’s hand making soft figure-eights around his shoulders, down to his lower back. 

“You’re really tense. You want me to count for you?” Larry asked under his breath, to which Sal hesitantly nodded. It was something they did when they were younger. When Sal would forget his prosthetic in a hurry to get downstairs after a horrific nightmare, his paranoia and anxiety eating at his being, Larry would always be there. Half-asleep or not, he’d always be the one to grab the front door and start rubbing Sal’s back, counting slow and soft until 10, 20, 30, or whenever they both fell back asleep. 

Sal couldn’t mimic his friend’s voice, even if he tried. Well…  _ when  _ he tried. A few times when Larry was unreachable at some ungodly hour, Sal would try to close his eyes and imagine Larry’s voice in his ear, but it just wasn’t the same. There wasn’t the familiar warmth, no enveloping, familiar scent - it was never the same. But then, as Larry took his time slowly counting upward, Sal was transported back. Back to times when Sal never worried about crushes or weird feelings or intrusive thoughts, when it came to his best friend. His step-brother. 

“I don’t know how you do it so well.” Sal whispered. Larry chuckled softly. 

“Do what?”

“The counting.” 

“I just count, silly.” 

“Yeah, but, it’s like… too good. Suspiciously good.”

Larry smiled to himself, continuing to count, even in the midst of speaking. 

“Larry -” Sal started, then abruptly stopped. The other boy ceased his counting, his hand falling from Sal’s back. He leaned away a little, trying to analyze Sal’s thoughts through his what he could see of his left eye. 

“What’s up, Sally Face?” 

The tension in his body growing instead of easing away, Sal stuttered a little, then sank back and covered his eye-holes with his hands.

“Holy shit! What happened to you?” Larry’s sudden exclamation made Sal’s hands drop. Larry’s hand scooped under the bandaged one, gently cupping it, rotating it, as if he could see the wound beneath the gauze. Sal sighed and shook his head -  _ stall,  _ his mind urged,  _ don’t tell him you broke a glass because you were too busy thinking about him.  _

“Uh, haha, funny story. Funny, funny story… about that.” His eyes darted around his friend’s face, feeling more and more unnerved by his relentless stare. Fuck. Why was everyone that Sal associated with so good at reading his mind? “Alright, shit. I dropped my saline glass because - because…” 

“Dude, is, like… everything good?” Larry interrupted. “I know things aren’t a hundred percent between us right now, but you’ve just been different. Are you okay?” 

Sal caught Larry’s eye and bore a stare through him. Pressure built up in his stomach, urging word vomit up his esophagus to be spat out from his hesitant mouth. 

“I broke a glass because I was thinking about you.” 

_ Nice one, Sal. Slick.  _

“Oh.” Larry stayed frozen for a moment, eventually breaking eye contact and glancing down to their hands. Sal’s mind quickly caught up with the situation and the immense stress began to make his body feel hot. He watched Larry’s face for a while longer until dropping his eyes to their hands, as well. His friend’s fingers gently held his wrist, partially clothed in bandage. They were so long and thin, compared to Sal’s which were stubby and thicker.

Out of embarrassment, Sal shrunk his hand back into his lap and gathered Larry’s undivided attention once more. 

“Not in the weird kind of way, though.” He clarified, a futile attempt at making his confession any better. 

Larry’s lips curled upward, a laugh escaping his mouth. He chuckled a little to himself, and Sal didn’t know if it was just his vision going, but it looked like Larry’s cheeks were a little pink.

“You’re always so funny, Sal.” 

“I mean, I don’t think I’m that funny.” 

“Well, you’re hilarious to me.” Larry suppressed some giggles that threatened to bubble over, gathering himself before speaking again. “Wanna know something, too?” 

Sal tilted his head to the side slightly, some of his hair from his shoulder falling to curtain his neck. 

“I’ve… alright, lemme count.” Larry spread his fingers apart, resting his opposite pointer on his pinky. “I’ve put clothing on backwards. I’ve forgotten to eat. Set some of my hair on fire from a joint. Couldn’t sleep.” 

“What are you talking about? What are those relevant to?” 

Larry paused, shook his head and smiled.

“Those are things I’ve done because I was too busy thinking about you, too.”

Sal’s pulse jumped. His jaw hung ajar, the ability to even comprehend a reply impossible. Larry’s blush deepened as he ran a hand through his hair, glancing away. 

“Sal, I don’t get what about you I like so much, but I just do.” He laughed, shaking his head again. “That’s probably super,  _ super _ bad too, because we’re step-brothers ‘n shit, but it ate at me so bad I couldn’t bear to even talk to you. And I guess that’s my excuse for not texting or calling or hanging out with you as much as I should’ve.”

_ He’s gotta be joking,  _ Sal’s mind screamed. Frozen in place, quite unable to speak, he rummaged around his blank mind for a reply - anything.  _ No way, you’re gay too?  _ No.  _ Dad and Lisa will be pissed.  _ No. His stare must’ve created an awkward atmosphere when Larry awaited an answer. His smile faded and he dropped his hands in his lap. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said -”

Sal raced to raise his hands before Larry began to apologize. He quickly tapped his chest, nodding. 

“Me, too. Me, too.” 

Sal guessed that would have to do. 

Larry’s glorious smile graced his lips once more. In a blink, he lunged forward and wound his arms around Sal’s neck, smiling harder at the sensation of warm limbs returning the tight hug. He rested his cheek against the side of Sal’s head, internally demanding a pinch to wake him up. But nothing came, and when the high of his rush of joy waded a little, he leant back and knocked his forehead against Sal’s prosthetic. 

“You know, Larry…” Sal found his voice, shaky and soft. The intimate lack of space between them drew his tone a note higher. “In rom-coms, this is usually where the two people kiss.” 

Larry snorted out his nose, smiling wider. 

“You watch rom-coms?” 

“I’m… uh - no…” 

“Weirdo. How do you take this thing off?” 

Larry leant back and reached around Sal’s head to fiddle with his prosthetic’s buckles. With a chortle, Sal swatted the eager hands away. As he reached back, blankly staring to focus, Larry slipped his hands to Sal’s legs. They rested on the area bordering thigh and knee, pulling Sal out of his focused reverie. Under his mask he mimicked his friend’s blush, glancing away. 

Top buckle: click. 

Larry gazed at the prosthetic, the top of it pushing up the edges of his side swept bangs. Sal locked eyes with Larry and smiled, nervous.

Bottom buckle: click. 

Sal pressed his unharmed palm to the forehead of the mask, taking a shaky breath. 

“You nervous?” Larry asked. Sal’s hand moved with his head in a chaste nod. In a gentle movement, Larry lifted his hand and pressed it to the back of Sal’s, overlapping his fingers. Both boys felt an unfamiliar warmth grow in their chests as their arms moved down. 

“Man…” Larry muttered in awe. “You’re more beautiful than I remember.” 

The prosthetic was then solely in Sal’s grasp, a hand coming to meet his scarred cheek. His finger softly stroked over the bigger scar ripping through the bottom half of Sal’s face. Despite his embarrassment, Sal held eye contact, feeling a strange gravitational pull. 

“Shut up.” 

Smiling, Larry leant forward and pressed his lips against Sal’s. The warmth radiating from their chests fled up to their lips, nerves hypersensitive as they slowly left and rejoined. Sal let the prosthetic fall from his hand and slowly looped his arms around Larry’s neck, Larry’s hands sliding up Sal’s thighs to his hips. He shivered. 

A nibble met Sal’s bottom lip. After they parted and quickly returned, Larry gently took Sal’s lip between his front teeth and pulled it, causing a harder kiss at the next meet. Through his nose, Larry sharply inhaled at Sal’s hand grasping the hair at the base of his neck. He shuffled to have his legs spread and Sal, in a heated daze, moved to place himself in the other’s lap. 

Larry drew his bare hands up under the back of Sal’s shirt. Into the hurried kiss, Sal groaned, deep. He clung to Larry’s hair, absently tugging it. Larry imitated the throaty noise, desperately pushing the two bodies closer together. But something in Sal’s body told him to stop. He was getting too hot,  _ too  _ quickly. Parting for the last time, Sal took a few quick breaths, unarguably too lost in the sensations he started feeling. Larry flicked his eyes up and down Sal’s face, smiling once more. 

“I should’ve told you a long time ago, Sally Face.” He whispered. Sal returned the smile, laughing a little. 

“Too bad, Larry Face. Now we’re step-brothers.” 

“Ugh, don’t even.” Larry whined, then glanced to the side. “You know we can’t tell our parents about it, right?” 

Sal held his eyes closed for a moment. Of course, there was absolutely no plausible way either of them could tell their parents. In a legal sense, they were related. But, regardless of the legal terms they were labelled as, they didn’t care. What they did together felt right - felt overdue. 

“I know.” Sal said, reopening his eyes. “But, hey, we kept the whole cult thing away from them that whole time, right? I’d say we’re both pretty good at keeping secrets.” 

“Fair. Can we even tell Todd and them, though?” Larry replied, twirling a piece of Sal’s hair between his fingers. 

“Are you kidding? Todd’s smart as hell, I bet he already saw into the future and knew this was all gonna happen.” 

“You’re right…” He trailed off for a few moments, then brought his gaze to Sal’s. With a cheeky smile, he said, “can we stay like this for a bit longer, though? Just our secret? I missed you.”

The deep warmth that previously resided in their lips, sunk back down into their chests. A feeling both boys knew they’d have to get used to. 

“Yeah. I missed you, too.” 


End file.
